


A certain sway

by Zen_monk



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Comedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, F/F, Gen, Internal Conflict, Resentment, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zen_monk/pseuds/Zen_monk
Summary: The image that Ann has of Makoto, and vice versa, can produce such feelings of ugliness that begs to be shown to the world.





	A certain sway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ethereally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/gifts).



Ann tapped her foot restlessly against the cool tile of Big Bang Burger, trying to relax in the air conditioning by finding herself restless nonetheless. Their latest romp through Mementos didn’t do much to release her pent up energy even though having Yusuke did wonders to allocate their magical reserves. She can observe Ren and Morgana do their best to guide Yusuke on the frontlines, and think there must be something really special between a boy and his animal friend to work so seamlessly in sync together.

 

Not that Morgana would like it if she referred to him as Ren’s animal friend, as though he were a snarky, feline version of a golden retriever who could play basketball or a Snowy who’s on the other side of the law.

 

“Hey Ann, got your meal.”

 

She looked up to see Ryuji carrying trays in his hands setting it down on the table. Yusuke and Ren followed suit, alongside one another on the opposite end of the booth.

 

Ann switched the tray placed in front of her with Ryuji’s.

 

“Mine’s the Cosmic Cheese meal,” she said, and proceeded to spread out the fries on her tray.

 

“Oh yeah, sorry,” replied Ryuji. “But man, you sure can eat…”

 

Ann plunged three fries into her cup of ketchup and chomped on them defiantly. “This is a reward after Mementos. I can definitely say that after today, I didn’t think I could live another day to eat a Cosmic Cheese again!”

 

“Yeah, no shit!” Ryuji exclaimed, ripping off the paper on his large burger and continued to speak with his mouth full. “If it weren’t for you and Morgana healing me up down there, I would wake up into next week.”

 

Yusuke grimaced, whether in disgust at Ryuji eating or in response. “It would probably do us a kindness to leave you unconscious for a bit. How many times did Morgana say that that Shadow was resistant to your blows, and yet you keep going forward regardless?”

 

Ryuji swallowed so hard it looked half a burger went down his throat. “But it worked before when you froze it! It was just… hard to tell because it had blue skin naturally…”

 

A small snicker purred besides Ren, and bright blue eye peeped through an opening in the zipper.

 

“You know Ryuji, they say that a sign of insanity is when you do the same thing to something and expect a different result each time,” Morgana said in a low voice.

 

Ren clapped a hand over the opening.

 

“Hey, enough now, or else I won’t share my fries with you.”

 

The bag wriggled indignantly.

 

“You should thank me for helping you eat them, considering how much salt and fat you’re eating nowadays!” squeaked Morgana.

 

Ann took a long draw through the straw, and sighed loudly.

 

“Can’t we have a nice, quiet meal after a long day of near-death experiences?” she snapped.

 

She quickly looked around the table, regretting the bite in her words. Everyone stared at her.

 

Ann winced apologetically. “…Sorry. Didn’t mean to have it come out like that.”

 

Ryuji took another bite of his now diminished burger. “Are you hangry or something?” he mumbled.

 

Ann scowled at the suggestion. “ ‘Hangry’?” she repeated, her voice clipped.

 

“Anger born from hunger,” said Yusuke calmly. “I can recall many a time in which I had reacted negatively due to forgetting to eat. My artwork would even bear the visage of such aggression when I tried to paint otherwise.”

 

Ann sighed. “I know what ‘hangry’ means, Yusuke.” She marveled at how two boys would, in quick succession, try to explain her own feelings to her. Frustration welled up inside her, and she decided to bring air it out.

 

“I thought I saw the student council president lurking around the restaurant.”

 

Everyone looked at her in alarm and then peered around the restaurant.

 

“She’s not here,” Ann clarified. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t wrong, though. Recently it seems like she is always just around the corner in school.”

 

Ryuji scoffed. “What, like she’s been tailing us or something?”

 

Ann looked askance in thought. Makoto Niijima just might be. Whether she was at lunch in the cafeteria or walking between buildings, she would see Niijima in the general vicinity either chatting with someone or reading or going around doing whatever the student council does nearby. The way she just “happened” to run into Ryuji, her, and Ren during break just made her scan the room any time she happened to even pass by either guy in the hallway.

 

“Well, I doubt she isn’t. The principal is getting the teachers and the student council to report every little thing after Kamoshida confessed.”

 

Ryuji leaned back sullenly and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

 

“What a snitch,” he growled. “You know what the student council was doing when the track team got disbanded? Not looking out for us! Just pointed the finger at me and say ‘don’t be like Ryuji’ while sucking up to Kamoshida.”

 

Ann leaned forward, her eyes gleaming.

 

“Right? They could have seen both the Track and Volleyball Clubs suffering under the physical abuse. They were there and didn’t say anything or actually talked to the students there.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that they, like, knew-knew about it,” mumbled Ryuji, his eyes downcast. “One of them did ask me about how I was doing when I got out of the hospital.”

 

“Hospital?” asked Yusuke, alarmed.

 

Ryuji waved him off. “I’ll tell you about it later. Well, one of them came by to check on me and asked me my side of the story. So I did, and you know what they said? They were like, ‘Well, it’s your fault for raising a hand to a teacher. Did you even think about the other team or about your future?’ I pretty much lost it to them right there, and they left me alone after that.”

 

Ann stared, aghast. “…Was it Niijima?”

 

Ryuji shook his head. “Nah, it was a senior who graduated. And a dude, cuz if it was a girl like Niijima I would’ve just told them to piss off and that’s that. I kinda… uh…” he trailed off and looked away ashamed.

 

There was a beat before Morgana piped up, voice full of cautious skepticism.

 

“You didn’t just try to beat them with a crutch or something, did you?”

 

Everyone looked at Ryuji, aghast. The pressure from all eyes looking at him made him sweat visibly in spite of the air conditioning.

 

“…I waved it at him, okay? Waved! Didn’t even knock over anything…”

 

Ann chuckled in spite of herself. From the corner of her eye, Yusuke made a frame out of his hands and aimed it at him, peering through with one eye.

 

“Yusuke,” she said, “what did I say when I told you how I feel about you framing me?”

 

Yusuke replied, his hands still in position in Ann’s direction. “I know, but it is nice to see a relaxed smile after a whole day of your countenance in a grimace.”

 

Ann stared at him, on the verge of pouncing on him depending on his next choice of words. “Grimace?” she repeated.

 

“Yes, and actually, could you recall those hangry feelings once more? Even your contorted in displeasure yields inspiration within me like no other.”

 

Ann flicked a hard piece of fry bit square at Yusuke’s forehead, while Ren and Ryuji covered their faces to stifle their laughter.

 

*

 

It was late in the evening when Makoto finished her journal entry and put her pens and pencils away in her worn pencil case. She pressed against the screen of her phone. No new messages. Another night to stay in the office. Madarame’s confession on aired television caused even more disruption in the police department and prosecution office due to the far-reaching influence the artist had as a cultural icon. A former Olympic rapist athlete whose case was hushed up paled in comparison to the fact that international art institutions were impacted by his forgeries and lies.

 

She hoped Sae didn’t forget to eat tonight.

 

Makoto’s night routine used to run as smooth as clockwork. Take a shower and bath after studying. Brush, floss, and mouthwash. A glass of water and a relaxing plop on the couch to look at night news while in her bathrobe. Get her clothes out for tomorrow, and put a slice of frozen fish to defrost in the refrigerator. In bed by 23:00, no later.

 

Now her nights were spent logging in new entries in her notebook, doing almost the exact same way that her father had done. A list of suspects. What each of them did during each period. Where they went after school. How late did Ren Amamiya return home to his probationary home. A sticky note if the teacher said something notable about him. A bullet point if Ryuji Sakamoto had another run-in with a former track teammate or teacher. A sticker if Ann Takamaki went to her part-time job.

 

Color-coded. Stickered. Highlighted. Marked.

 

If she had a cork board, she would start tying strings around pictures and try to connect the dots like a madwoman.

 

She did have a few pictures up, because the subject was one of a few who did have their picture for the public to consume.

 

Child boutique spreads. A grainy picture of a Finnish teen modeling magazine she printed from her printer and cut with scissors. New talent magazine clip outs of Tokyo talent. Teen Vogue. Each one has her in different outfits and hairstyles. Dusky pale hair, and bright blue eyes like jewels. Low-cuts and shorts for a summer spread. Covered head to toe in plaid and knitted stockings for autumn. Faux leather jackets and jeans for edgy zines. Each picture with a caption. Some without. Many namedropping her parents.

 

She only knew that Ann Takamaki was a quarter European from interviews of her parents, themselves big name photographers and active in the modeling and art industry. Even many teachers in Shujin Academy thought she was some kind of expat when she was actually born at a neighboring prefecture, lesser still that both parents are actually from Japan.

 

Genetics are really amazing, they all said. Her classmates, too. When Makoto interviewed them, they all either expressed cautious envy and wonder, or pretend apathy. Like they want to de-emphasize her foreignness by trying to make it everyday, like she was one of many tourists who come to Tokyo because “Cool Japan!” But they all wanted to talk about her foreignness even though some of them remembered her from middle school, and less from elementary school. She’s not that special, but isn’t there something so standoffish? Of course she's a model, just look at her European features; mixed kids are just better looking without trying.

 

The boys were not better. They talked about how she must have had many boyfriends, but when pressed couldn’t name one. They talked about how she was Kamoshida’s girl, but then said that they used to think that, and that Kamoshida was really just a pervert teacher using his power to hit on a hot mixed kid. They said that Ann was loose in middle school, but said nothing about how and why. They expressed disbelief when Makoto told them she was three-quarters Japanese.

 

A fuller story of Ann was through her parents in clippings of their interviews and profiles. They didn’t talk about her, insomuch as it was an inference of her life. She traveled to many countries (most likely has an EU passport). She doesn’t always stay in Japan for long after her childhood. Both parents traveled a lot either by themselves or separately. Maybe Ann was a latchkey kid like herself. Maybe Ann had more friends elsewhere than here.

 

Maybe Ann just knew how to just be, without thinking about a place for herself.

 

These pictures of Ann and her profile, more complete and comprehensive than the other two boys, were not in a file in Makoto’s room or just in a notebook. They were hung on the wall over her desk. Interviews were highlighted and noted. Favorite color, food, and place were cut out from a small editorial piece introducing her. Her blue eyes in the photographs were coquettish, vibrant, playful, energetic. She looked happy with herself.

 

But the real thing was different, wasn’t it?

 

Ann looked at Makoto and it was hostile. Disgusted. Suddenly Ann was like every other student who knew they were in trouble and thought they could fight back against evidence. A huge chip on their shoulder.

 

Makoto thought she knew the shape of that chip. Who knew that it was because Ann blamed her for Kamoshida too.

 

She spoke back, surprised at herself that she did. Because the shape of Ann’s chip was that she was someone who didn’t see a friend in need, and continued on as though nothing will happen.

 

Makoto thought about taking down those pictures because reality had burned her like how it usually does when she thought she could have peace.

 

But it felt really good to see the look of Ann’s face when she threw her words back at her.

 

*

Ann had to admit, Makoto had really good posture.

 

She couldn't stop looking over at Makoto at the TV station. Not her fault, the place was as dull as watching weeds grow. Everything the assistant said as she shepherded the Shujin students around were things she grew up knowing. She even waved at some producers who worked with her in the past!

 

If her parents were here, they would say this was a place to network.

 

It was pretty easy to ignore the assistant’s lecture; language blurs in and out in her thoughts where she can exchange and compromise phrase and sound. Some occasions it’s easier to think in English, others to describe in Japanese. Finnish, French, German make cameos in flashes and bursts.

 

When she looks at Makoto, she thought about the word brown-noser.

 

Snitch. 

 

Regal.

 

Snob.

 

“…Bitch.”

 

A sudden move, and she saw that Ryuji shot her a look. Ann blushed. She only said it under her breath. She definitely knew she said it in English.

 

Of course Ryuji would know that word in English…

 

Over Ryuji’s shoulder, Ren shot her one, too. Without a doubt, she knew what she said, too. She could feel her neck flame up too. Ugly feelings never felt good, even though she’s not in a safer place to express them.

 

Normal, boring days don’t have to have her ugliness thrown out there.

 

Ann tried to pay attention back to the speaker. Wait, no. They’re just talking about blocking. Moving on, now.

 

Ann looked at Makoto, to see if the president was still listening rapt with attention, like the good, respectful student she always is. With eyes clear of any guilt or shame, as though she felt she had lived a life without blame. Face framed in a bob cut so precisely that it looked like it would pierce metal. Lips pursed and pink.

 

She couldn’t believe that resting-bitch faces would actually look good.

 

When Ann looked over, she saw that Makoto was actually looking at her first. Ann blinked, shocked, and Makoto must have felt the same way because she looked away first.

 

Ann placed her eyes at the lecture in front of her but saw nothing and heard nothing.

 

She was spying on me!

 

She heard me call her ‘Bitch!’

 

She wanted to leave immediately.

 

*

 

She hated it when people look at her, because she knew almost exactly what they were thinking. This girl is stuck up. This girl is too smart for her own good. Who does she think she is? She’s an idiot, think she knows everything.

 

But then those same people need her, want something from her, are entitled to have her help them and then express disappointment when she can’t.

 

Ann gave her a new one. That look said that she enabled a rapist.

 

What the hell?

 

That feeling never left her, and it carried with her even when banknotes flew down from the sky of a flying bank and there was a freaking talking monster cat. Is this Yokai Watch??

 

Look at me now, some Yakuza underling was sneering at her. Just the right kind of pudgy face for Sae to kick in with her heeled boot. He looked at her like she was a piece of meat, saw right through her and remade her in his image. She saw it too; drugged out, beaten, assaulted. Made disgusting inside and out.

 

Well too late, she already felt like that from other people; you’re not my first.

 

Ann’s disgust welled up and burned. Made her think hard about herself. Made her want to slam her fist into the punching bag for an hour straight. She wanted to pull out Ann’s hair and rip her sleeves off. Scratch her porcelain skin and make her eyes red from tears. But she knew that Ann already did that to herself, when Shiho was hospitalized.

 

Her heart was torn apart, and Makoto knew, deep down, it was because everyone failed her. Everyone was failing Makoto, too. All they’re good for is telling Makoto to do this and that. Didn’t they think Makoto needed them sometimes?

 

Like now?

 

What is she doing, trying to stop organized crime from hurting Shujin students? She’s one, too.

 

Injustice welled up within her. She’ll make it right for once.

 

Everyone, look at me.

 

You, too, Ann.

 

Makoto’s feet created craters in the ground, firmament made firm for her.

 

We can make the world ugly.


End file.
